On Call: A Doctor's Journey in Public Service by Anthony Fauci, M.D. ✰✰✰✰✰

Dr. Anthony Fauci’s autobiography, On Call: A Doctor’s Journey in Public Service, was one of my most eagerly anticipated reads of 2024. I have admired Dr. Fauci since long before most Americans learned his name as a result of the COVID-19 pandemic. As someone involved in the arts during the late 1980s and early 1990s, Dr. Fauci was well known to me as a prominent fighter at the forefront of the AIDS crisis. 

The 1980s and ‘90s were still a time when, in the general population, homosexuals lived lives “in the closet.” However, if you worked in certain career fields, people tended to be more open-minded, which led to those like me, who spent their time around musicians, artists, dancers, and the like, being more aware of the homosexuals among us. When our friends and colleagues began to sicken and die from unknown causes it was terrifying and heartbreaking.

Dr. Fauci and his team of researchers, despite hate mail – and even death threats – never bowed to the idea that the illness, which would come to be known as AIDS, was a “gay disease” and the “wrath of God” as a small but strident segment of the population proclaimed in loudly invidious rhetoric. I listened to the audiobook, read by Dr. Fauci, and it was so clearly obvious in his voice, even all these years later, how important his work with AIDS was, both then and throughout his career. Listening to his wonderful Brooklyn accent as he recounted what he learned about seeing the patient as a person and the value of working with protesters and advocacy workers (a practice he continued throughout his career), often brought tears to my eyes. It was evident that here was a doctor who was also a man, a man who was so much more than a clinician, but a human being who saw people beyond the microscope slides.

Throughout his fifty years serving both the American people and global populations, not in lucrative private practice, but as a public, government employee, Anthony Fauci was front and center of many crises – such as ebola, zika, and polio – before COVID-19 made him a household name. His autobiography is a lively trip through how public health is guarded in the United States and what it takes to build and keep the vital public and private partnerships that keep our planet safe during times when populations are imperiled not only by organic disease outbreaks but also by the threat of bioterrorism. 

As you read through this measured autobiography –  from a man who, while obviously (and I think justifiably) proud of his accomplishments – you come to realize that Dr. Fauci was always a man who was never driven by who was in the White House or who controlled the Congress. Throughout his career, he showed outstanding ability to work across the political spectrum. His goal was always to safeguard the health of people, both at home and across the globe, irrespective of politics, class, race, or nationality.

After reading this autobiography, my respect for Dr. Fauci grew further. During COVID, I was frequently angered by the vitriol that was aimed his way. Reading his book, you learn that, while he was worried about the safety of his family and staff, his purpose remained laser focused. It in turns saddened and angered me to read about the absolutely appalling threats he and those he was close to endured, often directly as a result of a specific Tweet from the President. Dr. Anthony Fauci should have retired from public service with his name associated with nothing but the highest honors our government can bestow and the gratitude of the American people. Instead, a President of the United States repeatedly ridiculed like a sixth grader this highest global subject expert in a critical field of medicine during an unprecedented global crisis. That same President made Dr. Fauci a fall guy, time and time again put him in impossible positions, and misquoted him in critical ways to the press and on social media.

Whatever your thoughts on former President Donald Trump and Dr. Anthony Fauci, I urge you to read this autobiography. Heroes do not just materialize. They become heroes as a result of decades of dedication. Before reading this book, I admired Dr. Fauci. Now, I realize how lucky we have been to have had this dedicated man, willing to put himself in the line of fire for decades, providing us with the best public health possible. Dr. Anthony Fauci truly is a quiet hero among us. He is definitely one of mine.

What Angels Fear by C.S. Harris ✰✰✰✰✰

I belong to an online reading group on Goodreads called Play Book Tag. Each month we select a “tag” to read books from as a way to encourage broadening our reading horizons. This month the tag was “historical mystery.” I’ve read a few over the years but have never found a series that was engaging enough to compel me to read past the first installment. This title, the first in the St. Cyr series, is most definitely going to be the exception.

Our dashing, if somewhat tarnished, hero, one Sebastian St. Cyr, Viscount Devlin, is struggling in the wake of his experiences on the fields of the Napoleonic Wars. When a young woman is found, brutally raped and murdered, on the alter steps of a London church, Devlin is implicated in the murder and takes the only course of action available to him: he sets out to clear his name by finding the real culprit.

Two elements make this novel shine. The first is the cast of characters and the second is the plot. Without sinking to stereotypes, the author pulls together a sizable and disparate crew from the dying King George III and his reprobate of a Regent son to the requisite street urchin. There is a romantic interest that is just present enough — and necessary enough to the plot — not to take over the mystery, while still hinting at more to come in further books in the series.

As is required of a great mystery, the plot is where the book really comes into its own. There are many threads to the plot that gradually, deftly, begin to entwine. I had absolutely no idea who the guilty party was until it was spelled out for me, at which point, I thoroughly appreciated the crafting that went into the plot strands and the many red herrings that were left along the way. 

I must admit, what initially drew me to this novel — out of all the choices I weighed for the tag this month — had little to do with plot, author, or even reviews. I listened to the audiobook, and what made me select this book was its narrator Davina Porter, who is most famous for her narration of Diana Gabaldon’s Outlander series. She absolutely did not disappoint, creating that perfect storm of novel and narrator that makes for time very well spent.

This book is a highly recommended five stars. I think that lovers of mysteries will be kept guessing, but I think historical fiction readers that do not lean towards mysteries will be captivated by this book, too. Harris uses the 1811 London setting, not only in terms of physical locale but also in terms of historical setting, to serve the reader’s experience in all the very best ways. I definitely look forward to listening to the next book in the series and seeing if the magic continues.

In Memoriam: Regina Lindsey

A very intelligent, witty, compassionate reading friend passed away last month. Regina Lindsey was my reading soul sister in so many ways; I cannot even begin to express the loss I feel. We shared many similar interests in terms of subject matter, with both of us loving to read broadly. If I read a truly esoteric work of history, Regina always came to mind as someone to recommend the book to who might actually read -- and enjoy -- it. She just got me like that. It was not that we always agreed. In fact, we often hotly debated books in terms of scholarly and literary merit. Our politics, both domestic and global, did not always align, but she was one of the few people with whom I felt that I could truly say what I felt and still come out the other side with no hard feelings.

This wonderful woman, who was almost exactly my age (our birthdays were a few weeks apart), will be sorely missed in my reading life, by our reading community, and by her family. When a member of our online reading community, Play Book Tag, passes away, we read books that they loved or books that were on their "want to read" shelf in memoriam. Over the next few months, I plan to read the following individual titles in memory of Regina:

The Burning Tigris: The Armenian Genocide and America's Response by Peter Balakian 

    There was no single book that Regina coaxed me to read more. She was adamant in her belief that a genocide occurred in Armenia just as surely as it did in World War II Europe against the Jews. When I admitted that I knew next to nothing about the topic, she told me I MUST read this book and never stopped asking if I had read it yet.

The Forger's Spell: A True Story of Vermeer, Nazis, and the Greatest Art Hoax of the Twentieth Century by Edward Dolnick

    I love art history and also books about great heists, especially those that involve art or jewels. Regina loved anything to do with World War II and Nazi history. She has been recommending this book to me since she read it many years ago.

The Monuments Men: Allied Heroes, Nazi Thieves, and the Greatest Treasure Hunt in History by Robert M. Edsel

    This was another book that Regina absolutely adored. And I found an absolute snooze fest! I have tried twice to get through it! She kept encouraging me to keep going, that I would be completely captivated once I really got into it. I even watched the movie -- something I never do until I finish a book -- hoping it would help; despite loving the movie, my second attempt at the book was still a DNF. I am determined that third time will be a charm in Regina's memory.

The Indifferent Stars Above: The Harrowing Saga of the Donner Party by Daniel James Brown

    This is one I do not actually know if Regina read. Like me, Regina was not very fond of Goodreads and did not appear to maintain her shelf there for the last couple years. Both of us were tremendous champions of Brown's more famous work, The Boys in the Boat: Nine Americans and Their Epic Quest for Gold at the 1936 Berlin Olympics. I could not find this one on her shelf and do not remember her ever talking about it, but I am going to read it as it is an author we both loved.

A Peace to End All Peace: The Fall of the Ottoman Empire and the Creation of the Modern Middle East by David Fromkin

    The night I heard that Regina had passed away, I browsed my physical nonfiction bookshelves and cried a lot of tears. There were so many titles there that she was tied to. Books we read together, books one of us read first and then convinced the other to read, books that she recommended to me that I have yet to get to (better get on that -- as her death shows, that joke we all make about owning more books than we will ever have time to read before we die is not such a joke). Also among the titles were many that she and I talked about reading together but never did. This is one of those. The Middle East is my bailey wick; Turkey was Regina's. So, this was clearly the perfect buddy read for us. Except we never got to it.

Birds Without Wings by Louis de Bernieres

    The single novel that Regina recommended to me above all others was this one. As two nonfiction history readers, we did not talk fiction nearly as often. If we were going to read books together or based on each others' recommendations, they were just always nonfiction because we read a lot of books we knew nobody else was likely to read. This year, I am finally going to get to this novel that Regina so loved.

Another thing for which Regina was very well known was her love of United States Presidential history. In that vein, Regina led a group that chronologically read a biography for every single president on Shelfari, the readers' platform -- similar to Goodreads (only better) -- that hosted Play Book Tag for many years until Amazon bought it and then merged it with Goodreads (which it already owned). A couple of years ago, a few of us talked about starting a similar read on Facebook but did not end up doing it. We have now decided to do it as part of Play Book Tag on Goodreads. We will be starting with Washington: The Indispensable Man by James Thomas Flexner

The Body Farm by Patricia Cornwell (✰✰✰)

Currently, I am reading the nonfiction Death’s Acre: Inside the Legendary Forensic Lab The Body Farm Where the Dead Do Tell Tales by Bill Bass. Patricia Cornwell wrote the foreword to that book and supposedly used its subject as inspiration for this novel. I was very disappointed in both the plot line and the misnaming of this novel.

Dr. Bill Bass is a real life forensic anthropologist who realized in the course of his early career that a research facility that specialized in human (and sometimes animal and other) decomposition under various circumstances was needed in order for law enforcement to build airtight timelines to effectively prosecute murders. His answer was to begin The Body Farm.

Novelist Patricia Cornwell has heard Dr. Bass present at conferences and has been to The Body Farm, so I looked forward to reading this police procedural novel and seeing how she utilized her research and presented the material in the context of her plot. This was my first novel by her, and I cannot say that I am impressed.

First, The Body Farm plays such a minor role in the novel, I cannot even remember the fictional name she gave Dr. Bass — let alone fathom why she chose to title the novel after the research facility. Second, I felt the plot line was just weak and very rushed in its conclusion.

I am not a huge reader of crime fiction, but I was able to peg the guilty party from their very first appearance in the story. Since I am not a big police procedural reader, usually the whodunnit takes me by surprise. The rushed conclusion of the novel almost felt like the author knew everyone already knew the big reveal long before its unveiling and so decided to just wrap the thing up, ship it off to the publisher, and move along to her next book.

Narrator C.J. Critt was a new narrator for me and the only thing that kept this novel from being a two star read for me. I would definitely listen to another book she narrates. Whether or not I pick up another book by Patricia Cornwell is in doubt.

The Beautiful and Damned by F. Scott Fitzgerald (✰✰✰✰)

The Beautiful and Damned was Fitzgerald’s second book, published in 1922, following his debut, This Side of Paradise, published in 1920. Unlike most writers, Fitzgerald was an instant success, but he really hit his stride in 1925 with the publication of his most famous — and some say his best — novel, The Great Gatsby is definitely the first book any reader should explore of Fitzgerald’s four novels, but I feel like The Beautiful and Damned is well worth the read. 

Like Gatsby, The Beautiful and Damned is set during the era that Fitzgerald popularized as The Jazz Age. Its story is, in many ways, reflective of the early marriage and lifestyle of Fitzgerald and his wife and perhaps illustrates a subconscious fear of what might become of them. The novel’s main characters, Anthony and Gloria Patch, watch their friends find success and happiness while they themselves wallow in indolence and overspending as they wait for his grandfather to die and leave them an inheritance. The novel follows the effect this lifestyle has on their lives and relationship.

Fitzgerald’s final novel, Tender is the Night, published in 1934, was semi-autobiographical, but I feel that reading The Beautiful and Damned is invaluable for setting the scene and shedding light on the events preceding those in Tender is the Night. Together, the two novels present a portrait of how life-destroying Fitzgerald viewed the excesses of the Jazz Age and give a fictionalized account of his own marriage.

Had I read this novel in print, it would most likely have been a five star read for me. The narrator of the audio I listened to, William Dufris, was really not to my taste. While there is no doubt that Gloria was irresponsible and the architect of her own problems, Dufris’s voicing of her character was nothing short of grating, as were his portrayals of most of the female leads. All of the women came across as whiney little girls. I did not feel he did much better with the men, presenting all of them as brainless, despite their Ivy League educations and the success of most of them. There are numerous recordings of this novel; I highly urge going with a different narrator than Dufris.

Magic Lessons by Alice Hoffman (✰✰✰✰✰)

Magic Lessons, the prequel to Alice Hoffman’s 1995 Practical Magic, does not disappoint. If you have not yet read Practical Magic, read Magic Lessons first. However, I read them in order of publication and felt that they work that way equally as well.

Whereas Practical Magic takes place in the present day and revolves around siblings, Magic Lessons is absolutely a work of historical fiction, taking readers back to Puritan Salem, Massachusetts, during the 1600s. The witch trials of 1692 are peripheral to the plot but not the main focus. Although I loved the interplay amongst the siblings in Practical Magic, I preferred the multi-generational aspect of Magic Lessons.

Magic Lessons goes back in time to narrate the early history of where the inherited magic in the Owens siblings in Practical Magic originates. The reader learns that magic is something that Owens witches are born with and also something that requires tutoring to develop. 

If you enjoy historical fiction, you will especially enjoy Magic Lessons, even if you were not a fan of the magical realism that was a hallmark of Practical Magic. I highly recommend the audiobook, narrated by Sutton Foster. She was a completely new narrator for me; I would choose to listen to titles that she narrates even if the book itself was not on my radar.

Transcendent Kingdom by Yaa Gyasi (✰✰✰✰)

Yaa Gyasi’s Homegoing, which traced the descendants of two sisters, one a slave and one the
wife of an African slave trader, was an instant hit when it was published in 2016. Her newest offering, Transcendent Kingdom, is a very, very different novel but still strong in its own way. I loved the complexity of plot and characterization that were hallmarks of Homegoing; it was a five-star read for me and its audio took my top slot the year I read it.

I was not nearly as taken with Transcendent Kingdom. Instead of the three hundred years and multiple generations that Homegoing covered, Transcendent Kingdom focuses on three people: a mother and her two children. The novel still bridges the same two continents, Africa and the United States, but the central issues are completely different. Set in the present day, the primary issue in Transcendent Kingdom is that of addiction and the effect that it has on a small immigrant family. Community and perception are also touched upon, but the story is far less involved than Homegoing.

The only thing that saved the novel for me was the narration by Bahni Turpin. She made the utmost of those perfect moments of prose that were far less abundant than in Homegoing, bringing the subjects to life with sympathy and realism. If you are new to Yaa Gyasi, though, I would still recommend the audio or print version of Homegoing over Transcendent Kingdom, simply based on the strength of the former novel.